The SoapGirls crash through your expectations, tear up the floorboards, and rewrite the rules on top of the bar. On July 1st, at Columbus’s Rumba Café, they did just that. The stage was small, and sadly lit, despite the band bringing their own stage lights. It barely mattered. Rumba Café was still host to a punk rock show delivered with smudged lipstick, screeching amps, and battle-ready riffs.
Sisters Mie and Mille Debray took the stage in fishnets, combat boots, leopard-print bodysuits—their look was post-apocalyptic cabaret. Their sound? Loud, locked-in, and laced with menace. Every song punched with intention. “Champagne Cocaine” hit like a joyride in a burning limo. “Chains of You” carved out a rhythm so deep it left grooves on the floor.
The setlist had sharp transitions, snarling hooks, and lyrics that spat like molotov cocktails. Mille’s bass throttled through “Break You” with diesel-fueled authority, while Mie’s guitar solos in “Heart in Bloom” had teeth—snapping, slicing, howling.
Their between-song banter doubled as doctrine. “Be loud,” Mille shouted. “Be strange.” And they were—deliciously so. They didn’t slow down; they swerved, shifted, and peeled out, roaring through each track with theatrical precision. Every chord served a mission. Every scream hit its target.
At one point, half way through the show, audience members joined the spectacle. As Mie took her top off, she insisted that anyone not offended by this act, or anyone taking photos need to remove their top as well.
“Johnny Rotten” landed near the end with the swagger of a wrecking ball dressed for a nightclub. Then came “Kill Breed,” their final hymn—a wall of sound drenched in sweat, distortion, and the echoes of a crowd that had clearly just joined a movement without realizing it had a membership card.
Rumba Café hosts plenty of shows, but this one left claw marks. The SoapGirls aren’t just performers. They’re architects of beautiful chaos—and their blueprints are written in glitter and gasoline.
